


Waiting For You

by skittle479



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:48:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8791225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittle479/pseuds/skittle479
Summary: I’ve been working on a set of tales about Rafael and his wife, who have been trying to start a family. Please stay tuned for domestic Barba!





	1. 6 weeks

 

“Hey hermosa,” Rafael kissed me good morning. “You’re not working tonight, are you?”

“Not to the best of my knowledge. Why?” I asked curiously. 

“Well, I was thinking that we could spend some quality husband/wife time together.”

“Raf, we had sex last night.”

“I know,” Rafael said emphatically. “But …”

“But?”

“We’ve been putting so much pressure on ourselves to try and have a baby, I thought … I thought tonight could just be about us, you know? No pressure. No expectations. Just you and me. Romantic candlelit dinner. And if one thing leads to another … well, who am I to say no?”

I laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I’ll sort out dinner. See you tonight.”

Rafael kissed my cheek and hurried out of the door.

* * *

 

I rushed home as soon as I could that evening, thankful that no crime had befallen an unsuspecting victim, allowing me to get away early.

I was met with the most wonderful aroma as I walked through the front door. I recognized it at once and was a little confused, as it was not a scent I associated with our home.

My nose led me into the living room, where I found that Rafael had gone to our favorite restaurant and ordered our favorite meals as take out. The meal was elegantly laid out across our coffee table with candles sprinkled all over the room. Instead of chairs, he had draped blankets and cushions around to make us comfortable.

“Welcome home, cariño,” Rafael gave me a peck on the cheek and slid my coat off from around me while I stood and stared at his arrangements.

“Rafael, how … I,” I was speechless. “How did you…? When?”

He chuckled softly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Why don’t you go and get changed into something more comfortable while I finish up here.”

I rushed to the bedroom, stripping off my clothes along the way. I took a quick shower to wash off the remnants of my work day. As I came out of the bathroom, I noticed a dress laid out across the bed, something Rafael had also thought about. Slipping into it, I applied some light makeup; I wanted to look my best, particularly since Rafael had clearly gone to a lot of effort for this evening.

I was so busy admiring myself in the mirror that I didn’t notice Raf was in the room until he crept up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist.

I’m ashamed to say that I squealed a little.

“Are you going to stand there all night? Because I’m hungry.”

“Come on, let’s go eat,” I took his hand and led him back to the living room.

 

* * *

 

“Ugggghhh, I’m stuffed!” Rafael moaned and lay back on the cushions.

I crawled over to lie beside him. Rafael put out his arm and I tucked myself between his arm and chest.

I sighed heavily, feeling full and content. “Thank you for doing this Raf. I feel like we’ve not had much time for us. We’ve been trying so hard to make our future happen that we’ve forgotten to live our present.”

Rafael tilted my chin up to his face and kissed me, his hot breath on my lips, his fingers brushing through my hair. I pulled myself up on top of him and straddled him. I unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, placing teasing kisses to his exposed chest. 

Finding his mouth again, I kissed him deeply, suddenly feeling like I was buzzing all over. Rafael took a hold of my wrists and rolled himself on top of me. His kisses became deep and hungry, humming as our mouths met and he pushed his hips into mine.

“I … thought … you … said … you … were … full!” I managed to get my words out between kisses

“You know how to make a man work up an appetite.”

I spread my legs, wrapping them around his waist trying to pull him closer.

“Plus,” Rafael said suddenly, “this is probably the first time in about five weeks that we’re going to have sex that hasn’t been scheduled.”

We went back to kissing for a few moments before I fully registered what he had said.

I pulled out of his embrace. “Five weeks? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” he said trying to find my lips again.

“Five? Five weeks?” I asked again.

Rafael sighed and sat up. “I know it’s been a long time. Does it bother you that much?”

I looked at Rafael exasperatedly. “No you doofus,” I swatted his head playfully.

“Hey, that was uncalled for.”

“It is when you’re being dense,” I sat up to face him. “We’ve had 5 weeks of uninterrupted sex. As in my period was 6 weeks ago.”

Rafael stared at me for a while, realization dawning on him. “What should we do?” he asked

“A pregnancy test?” I said sarcastically.

“Now?”

“I think there are some in the bathroom. Let’s go!”

Rafael followed me into the bathroom and we rummaged through the drawers and discovered a solitary test. I unwrapped it and looked at Rafael. 

“Are you going to watch me pee?” I asked.

Rafael wordlessly went over and sat on the edge of the bath.

“I guess that’s a yes.”

I sat down on the toilet willing myself to produce enough urine to activate the test.

“You know, having an audience isn’t helping me,” I grumbled.

“I could turn on the tap,” Rafael smirked. 

I finally managed to pee on the stick. I sat down on the floor and covered it with some tissue paper. Raf sat down opposite me.

“Now what?” he asked.

“We wait 1 minute and then the stick will give us an answer.”

“Cariño,” Rafael said, taking my hand. “Look, I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t show … you know.

I had been feeling anxious and excited and appreciated Rafael’s support. I nodded.

I looked down at the timer I’d set on Rafael’s phone. I could feel my heart thumping rapidly against my chest. 45 seconds … 50 seconds …58, 59, 60 seconds.

Rafael pulled the tissue off the test.

We both stared down at the plus sign. Neither of us spoke for a moment.

“Hey, come here,” Rafael said gently, pulling me into his arms. I hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down my face. “I guess it worked.”

I smiled happily. “We’re going to be parents, Rafael.”


	2. 8 weeks

“Talk to me, cariño.” Rafael slammed his fist against the bathroom door a few more times. “What’s going on? You’ve been in there for a long time.”

“I’m coming.”

The door opened slowly and Rafael looked down at his wife, she looked scared … no, she looked terrified.

“What’s wrong?”

“I … I,” her bottom lip quivered slightly as she struggled to form words. “I’m bleeding.”

Rafael froze - no, this can’t be happening. They had tried so long and hard for this, it couldn’t end like this, so soon. Rafael found himself being led over to the bed he shared with his wife.

“Rafi, I don’t know what’s happening right now. There’s some blood when I go to the bathroom, but it’s not a lot,” she drew a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. “Lot’s of people have some bleeding. It can be normal. Spotting is a normal part of pregnancy. There are so many causes.”

She was looking off into the distance, Rafael began to wonder whether she was saying those things to reassure him or to convince herself.

“Should we go to the hospital?” Rafael asked gently, a few moments after she stopped talking.

“It’s only 6 o’clock, we should wait.”

“Wait? But the sooner the better, right? So they can do something, save the baby,” Rafael was confused.

“There is nothing anyone can do,” she said dejectedly, looking up into Rafael’s eyes. She looked slightly devoid of any emotion.

“What?” Rafael didn’t understand.

“Rafael, if I’m having a … miscarriage,” she choked out the word, “there is no treatment to stop it.”

“But…”

“Look, I’m not in any pain, the bleeding isn’t heavy. Can we wait? Until later this evening?”

“Mi amor, I don’t understand.”

“If we go now, we’ll have to wait. There will be so many people with problems, and we’ll have to wait. Rafael, I don’t want to wait in a room full of women, pregnant women who all have no idea what’s going on. Don’t make me do that.”

“And you think it’s going to change later in the day?” Rafael asked skeptically.

“Yeah, it does. Typically these places tend to quiet down after midnight.” Rafael raised and eyebrow and she shrugged, “people go to bed and the folks with more serious things are the ones that show up.”

“I see. So what do you want to until then?”

“Damnit, Rafael,” she picked up her jacket and left the room without a backward glance. “Let’s go now then.”

Rafael followed slowly, “Should we…” he started, attempting to offer a cab instead of fighting parking but he sealed his lips when he saw the look on her face.

 

* * *

 

She’d been right, the waiting room was full of loud expectant mothers, many of whom already had a litter of their own. They looked like frequent attenders and knew their way around like it was their second home. Their devil spawn were running around untamed. Rafael could feel his wife’s leg shaking anxiously. He grabbed her hand and held it tightly, feeling her clammy skin between his palms, her pulse was racing, or was it his own, he wasn’t sure. He looked down at her face, she wore the same emotionless expression she had had in their apartment.

The doctor finally called her name. They looked at each other and they took a deep breath simultaneously, stood and followed the on call doctor into the consulting room.

Rafael tried to listen to the doctor, he said something about a - what was it - _transvaginal ultrasound to confirm fetal viability_? He hoped that these terms meant something to his wife, because he didn’t feel like he was keeping up with the conversation. He was not used to feeling lost like this, normally people struggled to keep his pace. All he wanted was for this child to be alive, please, was it too much to ask? Please be okay.

“I would like to perform the scan now,” the doctor stated mechanically. It was clear that she did this day in and day out. She seemed to have lost any empathy she may have started out her career with. “Please take off your pants, sit on the couch and put your feet in the stirrups.”

His wife did as she was told. He watched her silhouette behind the curtain, her movements were slow, reluctant, … scared. He wanted to slip behind the curtains to help her, hold her, make everything okay, but it wasn’t the time or the place. Instead, he gripped the sides of his chair and waited.

The doctor pulled back the curtain.

“Rafi,” she whispered, holding out her hand as the doctor inserted the ultrasound probe.

He was by her side in an instant. “Deep breath, just take a deep breath, it’s not going to hurt.”

This earned him a small smirk, of course, she was intimately familiar with this procedure.

Suddenly his fingers felt like they were trapped in a vice, “ouch, sweetheart, you’re…,” he looked up at her face, there were tears flowing down her cheeks, but, she was smiling.

“What…? What’s going on?”

The doctor pulled the monitor around to face Rafael. “Do you see that?” she said, pointing at a small black dot with an oscillating white outline.

Rafael nodded.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

“That’s our baby, Rafi,” she said happily.

Rafael’s eyes shone happily, reflecting the beating heart of their baby.


	3. 12 weeks

“Do you have any more questions?” Dr. Montgomery, our obstetrician asked.

I shook my head.

“Can you just repeat what you said about those Down’s syndrome tests?” Rafael asked from beside me.

I turned to face him, realizing that I hadn’t given him a chance to ask any questions. Of course he had his own concerns.

“Sure thing, Mr. Barba,” Dr. Montgomery smiled reassuringly.

“As you may know, a child’s risk of Down’s syndrome increases the older the mother is when the child is conceived.”

Rafael took my hand supportively.

I frowned at him, “I’m not _that_ old, Rafael!”

He looked back sheepishly.

Dr. Montgomery smiled amusedly and continued, “The blood tests we performed today, along with the scan you had at 12 weeks will allow us to calculate a risk. The risk of your child having Down’s syndrome.

“Now these tests are by no means a guarantee.”

“What does that mean?” Rafael asked.

“Well, if the risk is more than 1 in 150, we can offer you a more _definitive_ test.”  
“Amniocentesis,” I said quietly.

“Yes, amniocentesis,” Dr. Montgomery confirmed. “During this test, if you choose to go ahead with it, we would insert a needle into your wife’s abdomen and into the fluid sac surrounding your baby. Then we take  a sample of the fluid, which normally contains cells from your baby. We can do a chromosomal analysis to give you an exact diagnosis.”

“I see,” Rafael looked at me thoughtfully.

“What is it?” I asked, anxious to know what he was thinking. 

“What happens if our baby does have Down’s?” he asked hesitantly. 

“Well, there are a lot of support groups for families with Down’s children and I can recommend you pediatricians who specialize in children with this condition,” Dr. Montgomery paused for a moment and then cautiously suggested another option. “Alternatively, some people consider the option of … termination.”

Having worked with an antenatal clinic in the past, I knew Dr. Montgomery’s words before she spoke, but I kept silent for Rafael’s sake. I watched the look of horror spread across his face when she gave us that final option.

“No!” he said emphatically. “No way!”

He sounded so sure, but I could read flicker of  doubt flash across his face. He turned to look at me, putting across his wordless question. ‘You feel the same way, don’t you?’

Yes, of course I didn’t. Did I? Falling pregnant with this child had seemed like a miracle for me, but I couldn’t lie to myself about my fears, and I certainly couldn’t lie to Rafael.

I noticed Rafael frowning at me and I realized that I hadn’t said anything for a while.  
  
“No … I wouldn’t want that,” I said slowly.

“You could try to sound a little more convincing,” Rafael said, angrily.

“I …” I realized that I needed to discuss my fears with my husband. I felt ashamed, we had tried so hard to start a family but had not given any thought to all the possibilities. How could I have been so selfish?

Dr. Montgomery interrupted my reverie. “Why don’t I give the two of you some time to talk about this in private. I’ll be back later.”

With that, she stood up and left.

“Cariño, I need some help understanding what you’re thinking.”

“Raf … have you any idea what it’s like having a child with Down’s syndrome?”

“I understand that they have a lot of medical issues, learning difficulties…”

“Rafael, looking after a baby with Down’s is a full time job. I … I’m just not sure I want to do it … alone.” I directed my speech mostly at my hands, rather than at Rafael. 

“Alone? You’re not alone, we’re in this together. I don’t understand, how could you think that I wouldn’t be there for you, for my child?”

He looked hurt. I hated myself for the way I felt, but my concerns came from a genuine place. 

“Rafi, your job is so important to you. But it takes you away from me a lot. I understand and accept that. I want a child with you because I think you would make an amazing father. But I’m … concerned that if our child were to have a disability, I would end up giving up everything I have worked for for the baby. And yes, I know that that sounds incredibly selfish…”

“Cariño…”

"No, let me finish. Please.” I took a deep shuddering breath, willing myself not to break down. “I’ve worked so hard to become the person I am. I want both things, my career and my family. And if my child needed me, of course I would give up everything for them.”

I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“But I’m afraid, Rafi. I’m afraid I’m going to screw it up.”

Rafael pulled his chair right up to mine and enveloped me in his arms. And we sat together in silence until I was able to compose myself. He took my face in his hands.

“Cariño, I have no doubt you would make a wonderful mother to any child we had. I want you to know that, I would do everything I could to make time for you and our child. I wish I could tell you that everything is going to be okay, but I can’t. What I can promise you, is that I’ll be there, every step of the way.”

“I just want the best for this baby.”

Rafael nodded.

“I would understand, you know,” I said, giving him a watery smile.

“Understand?”

“That you’d have to keep working, to support us, and you couldn’t be there one hundred percent of the time.”

“What if I wanted to stay at home with the baby and you supported us?” Rafael asked indignantly.

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

“Yeah okay,” he grumbled.   
  
I laughed, happy that he understood my concerns and was willing to work together in the face of an uncertain future. 

“Cariño?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d really consider terminating the pregnancy?”

I sighed. “No, Rafi, I don’t think I could ever do that. I just … I was afraid and I needed to know that we would be a team. So thank you for reminding me.”

“Always.”

“We’d better go and get Dr. Montgomery!”

Rafael nodded.

 

* * *

 

A week later, Rafael and I were about to sit down to dinner when the phone rang. It was Dr. Montgomery’s office.

“Hello?” I answered the phone nervously.

“Mrs. Barba?”

“Yes. Hi, Dr. Montgomery. Do you have my test results?” I asked, skipping all pleasantries. Rafael darted around the table and pressed his ear to the other side of my phone.

“Well, you’ll be delighted to hear that your tests show that there is a very low risk that your baby has Down’s syndrome.”

“Gracias a dios,” Rafael muttered beside me.

“Dr. Montgomery, thank you so much for calling,” I hung up the phone and heaved a sigh of relief.

I put down my phone and fell into Rafael’s arms.


	4. 20 weeks

Rafael tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. _How long did it take for an uber to arrive?_ he thought, glancing at his watch for the fifth time. It was already 2.30 and his wife’s antenatal appointment was at 3.

This was the one, the big one. He couldn’t miss another appointment. The only one he had attended so far was the initial check up. The second appointment he had walked into halfway through, for the third he arrived as the his wife was walking out and he had forgotten the fourth altogether.

This appointment was _the_ appointment. The one where they would officially be allowed to know the sex of the baby.

Rafael climbed into the cab, “Mount Sinai Hospital, please.”

He settled down into the back of the cab and looked down at his phone, fingers hovering above the seven unread text messages. Hesitation; a feeling Rafael often ignored. If he read these messages, he would inevitably be obliged to go back to this office, to file an injunction, or another equally important legal document. No, Rafael tucked his phone into his jacket pocket, he would have to live in blissful oblivion for the next hour. The next hour was for _his_ wife, _his_ baby, _his_ family.

Glancing at his watch again, 2.40, Rafael thought, _had the car even moved? I can’t be late to find out how the rest of my life is going to turn out._

Rafael smiled, today, he would know if he was having a son or daughter. Or the third option was that he would spend the rest of his wife’s pregnancy sleeping on the couch.

He relaxed a little, pondering his prospects. In an instant, he saw his child grow and thrive in his mind’s eye. Not yet knowing the child’s sex left him open to a world of possibilities.

He saw his two year old son throwing blocks across the room, his wife cheering. “Good arm!” she laughed as it hit Rafael in the face. He saw his daughter, aged three, passing him a cup of tea at her princess tea party. At age four, his son running to him with his favorite book as he walked in from work. He saw a five year old girl presenting him with a picture she had drawn for him at school, a picture of their happy family.

He imagined comforting his six year old son after losing his first tooth, promising that the tooth fairy would pay him a visit and he beamed with pride when his seven year old daughter won her first spelling bee. Christmas would be a family tradition, at age eight, his son wanted to put the star on the tree alone for the first time. He grinned at his wife, who held his hand looking misty-eyed. 

At age nine, his daughter would be serious about her homework, she would join him in his study while he wrote mindless briefs.  They would occasionally exchange notes. He would be proud to take his ten year old son on his first yacht trip, inwardly praying that he wouldn’t be seasick. Joke was on him, because he would end up sick with worry chasing his son all over the boat to stop him falling overboard.

He couldn’t wait to cheer his eleven year old girl on at her baseball games. He would lose all sense of decorum when she hit a home run and won their side the game. His wife would fling her arms around his neck and kiss him and say proudly, ‘that’s our baby!’ She would do the same when their twelve year old son won the science fair with the volcano they built the night before. It would be a fabulous volcano!

He would be honored when his daughter, age thirteen asked him to speak at her class career day and equally so when his fourteen year old son asked if he could be take him to his first theater show. At fifteen, he was sure his daughter would be head of the debate team, and his wife would turn to him and say, 'well you know where she got that mouth.’

Fear and pride would fight for control of his heart when his sixteen year old son passed his driver’s test, first time of course. The was no way he was getting a car, he would strongly object! He suddenly imagined a horrifying argument with his sixteen year old who wanted to go to Yale and not Harvard. This image lingered before being replaced with that of himself and his wife at graduation day. Their child’s graduation … well not a child anymore. He would film their valedictorian speech because his wife was too busy crying to …

“Sir … hey Mr.,” the uber driver called to Rafael to get his attention.

“Yeah?” Rafael was snapped out of his reverie.

“Mount Sinai Hospital, right?”

They had stopped outside the hospital.

“Oh right, thanks,” Rafael hopped out of the cab and dashed through the entrance of the hospital to the antenatal unit.

He arrived in the waiting room out of breath and red in the face. It was only 2.59pm. “I’m here,” he puffed, looking around. His wife was nowhere to be seen.

“Are you looking for someone, sir?” a sweet little receptionist approached him.

“My wife has an appointment at 3. Mrs. Barba, I’m Mr. Barba, her husband, obviously.”

The receptionist smiled and looked amused.

“I’m sorry, I just … I can’t miss this appointment. Have I missed it?”

“Come with me, Mr  Barba,” the receptionist led Rafael to a consulting room and opened the door. “Excuse me, I have your husband, Mrs. Barba.”

Rafael peered through the door to see his his wife lying on the examination couch, looking extremely forlorn. Her expression lit up when she saw his face.

“Hermosa! I’m so sorry I’m late,” he pushed past the receptionist and took his wife’s outstretched hand.

“Oh Rafi, you’re just in time!” she smiled and turned back to the ultrasonographer. “He’s here, please tell us.”

The ultrasonographer turned his screen to face them, smiled widely and said, “congratulations! It’s a girl!”

Rafael grinned ecstatically at wife. He couldn’t wait to meet his daughter.


	5. 22 weeks

“Benched. I can’t believe I’m not allowed out in the field anymore.” I said loudly and poignantly, ensuring everyone in the room could hear me.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Rafael massaged by shoulders comfortingly.

“I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” I was not happy about being stuck in the lab and not being allowed to go out into the field as a medical examiner.

“Mmmm,” he responded reassuringly.

“And I’m only 22 weeks, I’m barely showing.”

“But the baby is still growing.”

“You’re totally happy about this, aren’t you?”

“Well I won’t lie. But Dr. Warner is the boss, she knows best!”

I gave him a look of contempt.

“Hey, don’t try pin this on me,” Melinda called from the other side of the lab. We were running DNA samples.

“So are you going to make me spend all my lunch hours here now?” Rafael asked.

I didn’t answer. Instead I placed my hand on my abdomen. _Deep breath_ , it’s just a muscle ache. I’d been telling myself the same thing all morning, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore it.

“Cariño, are you okay?” Rafael asked.

“Yeah … fine,” I nodded. “Actually, no, it’s not fine, something is wrong.”

Melinda put down her test tube and rushed over immediately. “What is it? What do you feel?”

“There is a flutter. Here,” I put my palm over my lower belly.

“Here, let me,” Melinda gently pushed by hand out of the way and replaced it with my own.

“THERE! Do you feel it? What’s happening? Is there something wrong?” I asked anxiously.

Melinda smiled. “ _That_ is your baby moving.” She laughed and went back to her work.

“You freaked out because the baby moved?” Rafael asked incredulously.

“Raf.”

“I can’t believe you freaked out because the baby is moving.”

“Rafi.”

“Oh my God, the baby moved!” Rafael gasped and put his hand on my belly.

I laughed, “Yes Rafael, the baby moved.”


	6. 28 weeks

"I said I would consider it, I never said I would actually go. Anyway don't you know all these things? Being a doctor and all." Rafael grumbled.

"Well, as your pregnant wife, I automatically get to veto that," she said. "Our baby is 28 weeks and just because I've seen people give birth, doesn't mean that I know how it feels. And neither do you, so you have to be at this class, because I don't want to have to explain all this to you."

She slipped off her flip flops and sat down on the mat on the floor. She was wearing yoga pants, a loose tank top and an over sized cardigan. Glancing around the room, there were several other couples, all of whom had on a much more relaxed attire. Rafael had come straight from work and was starting to feel uncomfortable in his three piece suit.

He noticed a lot of couples were talking with each other. He also noticed that several of them snuck glances in his direction but no one made attempts to come over and talk. _Strange_ , Rafael thought, but before he had the chance to mention this to his wife, a tall, slender, obviously not pregnant woman flounced into the room and made her way to the head off the class.

"Good afternoon everyone and welcome to birthing class." The instructor announced in a  cheery voice that grated on Rafael’s nerves immediately. "My name is Evanna and I will be your instructor for the course."

"For the rest of the pregnancy, I will be your guide. I will teach you everything you need to know about your pregnancy, like signs of labor, how to cope with pain and when it's the right time to call your doctor. But to start, I would like to get to know each of you, so we'll go around the room and introduce yourselves." 

 _Oh God, it's like being back at school_ , Rafael thought, rolling his eyes. Each of the couples went around and introduced themselves and their partner. When it was their turn, he let his wife take the lead, she introduced them by their first names, avoiding mentioning their occupations, which Rafael felt glad about, as he felt that they'd already been singled out.

Rafael had been very skeptical about attending the class, but as the class continued  he was surprised to find it rather educational. Evanna demonstrated different positions to alleviate pain and having involved partners was an active part of this process, much to Rafael’s chagrin and his wife's amusement.

"Moms, Dads, can I have your attention please?" Evanna called loudly. Everyone stopped practicing their breathing techniques and focused on Evanna. "So, what we're going to do next is a bit of role reversal."

"I want all the Dads ... sorry, partners to come up and grab a baby belly." 

Rafael looked horrified. "I'm not doing that!" he whispered fiercely in his wife's ear. The mere act caught Evanna's attention and sized Rafael up in an instant

"Hey there! Rafael, isn't it?" she asked.

He scowled as his wife, who nodded vigorously. 

"Why don't you come over here and try this on."

"I'm not putting that thing on over my suit. Do you know how much this suit even costs?" Rafael looked disgusted.

"No, but I'd imagine it was quite a bit and I would advise you not to wear it to your child's birth," Evanna sassed back.

"Meow," his wife whispered and giggled.

"Rafael, I've had people like you in my class in the past. People who think they are too good to take part in the activities, people who think this is silly. That's their choice. But let me ask you something, why did _you_ come here?" Evanna asked.

Rafael suddenly felt like he was five years old again, being scolded by his teachers. He didn't have a good answer to her question, except for the honest answer -

"Because my wife wanted me to," he mumbled.

"Exactly," Evanna said emphatically. "You're here because you love her, and your child. Isn't that why all the partners are here?" Evanna looked around the room. So did Rafael. Most of them were nodding. "She wants you to have a family experience. Child birth is hard, but it doesn't have to be traumatic. Don’t you want to make this the best possible thing for both of you? All three of you?"

He looked at his wife, she looked back at him, her eyes wide and misty. He wished she wouldn't look at him like that, he didn't know how to say no to that look.

"Fine," he grunted.

Everyone in the room cheered. Rafael flushed.

His wife hopped up to help him remove his waistcoat and attach the styrofoam belly to his own.

"Right, Rafael, I want you to come to the head of the class. Bring your wife."

Rafael stood rooted to the spot.

"Come along now," Evanna encouraged. "I don't bite. Much." She winked exaggeratedly to the others, getting a quiet chuckle from the room.

Rafael stalked to the front of the class, clutching his wife's hand, dragging her along.

"Now I need you to assume the birthing position we talked about."

Reluctantly, Rafael sat down on the floor.

"Now, I'm going to teach you the pant-blow breathing technique to be used during contractions. Blowing softly at regular intervals creates a rhythmic pattern, which helps you to relax."

"I'm anything but relaxed right now," Rafael muttered under his breath. His wife rubbed his back soothingly and smiled in what she hoped was a consolatory manner. In reality she was enjoying herself incredibly!

"The pant is an in and out breath. Handy tip - touching the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth will help keep your mouth nice and moist! Pant - 2 - 3 - blow. Like this.

She demonstrated the ludicrous looking technique a few times before turning to Rafael. 

"Now Rafael will show us how it's done."

Rafael sat for what seemed like an eternity. The images of all the other couples faces swam on front of him, blood pounded in his ears, he closed his eyes. He saw images of himself as a young child being laughed at by other children at school. No, he shook the images from his mind, he had to do this, for his wife, his baby, his daughter. He had to do this for them. He would do it for them.

But before he could start, his wife wrapped his arms around his shoulders and said, "look Evanna, I think I should do the demonstration, I need to learn how control my breathing. I would prefer to do this."

Evanna smiled at her kindly. "Why don't you two go back to your places and practice together. Everyone else, practice!"

Rafael scrambled back to his original place at the back of the class, followed by his wife. He ripped off the fake abdomen and shuffled around to sit behind his wife. "Thank you, cariño," he whispered gratefully.

 


	7. 32 weeks

_Deep breaths, just take a deep calming breaths. Slow down your heart rate. This baby is going to kick me too death before she is even born_ , I thought, rubbing my belly in what I hoped were soothing circles.

I picked up my phone and texted Rafael.

_Rafi, if you’re not too busy, please come here and get your child to stop kicking me._

“You’re only 32 weeks old kiddo, you can’t keep this up for another 8 weeks,” I scolded. “Your mommy is never going to get any work done.”

Being stuck running DNA samples in the lab for the last 12 weeks had been a nightmare. Although, it’s not like you can concentrate when your unborn child is trying to pulverize one of your kidneys.

“Who are you talking to?” Sonny appeared at the entrance of the lab.

“Barba’s baby!” I muttered. She was always Raf’s kid when she was like this. He was like this too; it took him forever to find a comfortable position in bed and there was frequently a lot of kicking before we could get to sleep. I knew how to soothe Rafael though, but my tricks weren’t working so well on the baby.

“Have you tried talking to her?” Sonny suggested. “Or singing?”

“Yeah,” I said dejectedly, “but she just kicks more at the sound of my voice.”

“Here, let me try!” Sonny grabbed a nearby chair and swirled it around so he was sitting in front of me. “Hey there kiddo! It’s your Uncle Sonny! Thought I’d drop by and say hi. Seems like you’re giving your mom a bit of a hard time there with the kicking, so what’s say I tell you a little story I love. It’s called _Oh, The Places You’ll Go_!”

I grinned as Sonny started reciting Dr. Seuss to my abdomen.

“ _Congratulations!  
_ _Today is your day.  
_ _You’re off to Great Places!  
_ _You’re off and away!_

_You have brains in your head.  
_ _You have feet in your shoes  
_ _You can steer yourself  
_ _any direction you choose._

_You’re on your own.  And you know what you know.  
_ _And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go._ ”

“Okay, no, nope … that’s enough, you’re just making things worse!”

“But… I wasn’t done!”

“You’re done, Carisi,” we both turned at the sound of Rafael’s voice.

He stepped into the room and wrapped his arm around my waist, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “I think my daughter is saying enough is enough.” He jerked his head to one side to indicate Sonny to get off his seat.

Sonny raised both his hands in the air in a surrender position and gave up his chair. “All yours man. I guess that’s my cue to leave you. See you later.”

“Thanks Sonny,” I called after him as he left the lab.

Rafael put his hands on my abdomen. “Hey mija, it’s your father. I hear that you’re not really a fan of Uncle Carisi’s story telling, and I gotta tell you, I have to agree.”

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t stop him talking because the baby was already starting to calm down.

“Now, where did he leave off?

_You’ll look up and down streets. Look ‘em over with care.  
_ _About some you will say, ‘I don’t choose to go there.’  
_ _With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,  
_ _you’re too smart to go down any not-so-good street._

_And you may not find any  
_ _you’ll want to go down.  
_ _In that case, of course,  
_ _you’ll head straight out of town._

_It’s opener there  
_ _in the wide open air.  
_ _Out there things can happen  
_ _and frequently do  
_ _to people as brainy  
_ _and footsy as you._

_And when things start to happen,  
_ _don’t worry.  Don’t stew.  
_ _Just go right along.  
_ _You’ll start happening too.  
_ _OH! THE PLACES YOU’LL GO!_ ”

I smiled at Rafael, “thanks for coming down, I can finally get some work done.”

“Any time, cariño.” He gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you at home.”


	8. 41 weeks & 4 days

Rafael ran down the stairs, and into the living room of their new house. His wife was sitting on the sofa, looking incredibly irritable and munching on chilli flavor chips. He dropped down into the seat at the other end of the sofa, slipping the book he had brought with him under the cushion.

“You know, they say that spicy foods are supposed to stimulate labor, but that’s crap,” she said tossing a chip in his direction.

“Well, you’ve only started that bag, give it a chance,” Rafael smirked, earning him a dirty look.

He pulled his wife’s feet into his lap, “cariño, relax, she will be here soon.” He started massaging the soles of her feet.

“I’m 41 weeks and 3 days, she doesn’t want to come out. My kid doesn’t want to come out and meet her own mother,” she raised her hands in the air dramatically, emptying half the bag of chips into her lap. “Great!”

“Cariño,” Rafael laughed, “trust me, she is going to come out eventually.” He picked up the chips one by one, popping half back in the bag and the other half in his mouth. “She just wants to stay close to her mami, what’s wrong with that?”

She smiled, and let Rafael place another chip in her mouth.

“Raf, I feel like a beached whale,” she said after a few moments. “I know I’m complaining a lot, but I just … I feel so uncomfortable. I have heartburn, I feel like I can’t breathe, I waddle when I walk, and I can’t drink anything without having to pee, like every five minutes!”

Rafael could see that his wife was on the verge of tears. “Hey, hermosa, look, I was going to save this for after our daughter was born, but I couldn’t wait to show it to you. I bought this for her.”

He pulled out a brand new copy of “Oh, The Places You’ll Go!”

“I thought, we could read it to her, you know, as her first bedtime story … but I guess there is no time like the present!”

He looked up at his wife, whose eyes were still glistening with tears, but now she was smiling. Rafael opened the book and began reading…

“ _The Waiting Place…  
_ _…for people just waiting.  
_ _Waiting for a train to go  
_ _or a bus to come, or a plane to go  
_ _or the mail to come, or the rain to go  
_ _or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow  
_ _or waiting around for a Yes or a No  
_ _or waiting for their hair to grow._

 _Everyone is just waiting.  
_ _Waiting for the fish to bite  
_ _or waiting for wind to fly a kite  
_ _or waiting around for Friday night  
_ _or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake  
_ _or a pot to boil, or a Better Break  
_ _or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants  
_ _or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.  
_ _Everyone is just waiting.  
_ _NO!_ ”

“Raf,” she whispered.

“ _That’s not for you!  
_ _Somehow you’ll escape._ ”

“Rafi!” a little louder this time.

“ _All that waiting and staying.  
_ _You’ll find the bright places.._.”

“RAFAEL!” she yelled.

 **“** What?” he asked puzzled.

“My water just broke.”


	9. 41 weeks & 5 days

My water had broken before my contractions had started, so I’d had to go through the grueling process of being induced. It had started out as a breeze, but my contractions weren’t as effective as I’d hoped and my cervix was slow to dilate. Twelve hours and 10 centimeters later, I was definitely regretting my decision to decline an epidural.

“Come on cariño, you can do this!” Rafael

“Oh God, Rafi, I can’t,” I sobbed. “It hurts too much. I can’t do this anymore”

“Sweetheart, I told you to take the epidural.”

“Well I can’t exactly have it anymore, so why are you bringing it up?” I screamed, slightly hysterically.

“Mrs. Barba, you’re doing brilliantly, a couple more pushes, that’s all you need,” the midwife interrupted, in her nice calming voice.

“That’s easy for you to say, standing all the way over there,” I grumbled angrily, before moaning at the start of the next contraction.

“You got this cariño!” Rafael coached.

I whimpered and tried to remember the lamaze breathing techniques in the birthing classes we had attended. The mattress sank slightly, as Rafael sat down beside me and grabbed my hands.

“ _But on you will go  
_ _though the weather be foul.”_

I frowned at him but started pushing as the contraction started building in strength.

 _“On you will go  
_ _though your enemies prowl.”_  

“Ahhhhhhhh!” I bore down, trying to squeeze my baby’s, (in my opinion) grossly enlarged head, through my vagina.

_“On you will go  
_ _though the Hakken-Kraks howl.”_

I took a few deep breaths before pushing again.

_“Onward up many  
_ _a frightening creek,”_

“Mrs. Barba, I can see your baby’s head, she is crowning,” the midwife 

_“Though your arms may get sore  
_ _and your sneakers may leak.”_

“The head is out, one last push and you’ll be a mom!”

_“On and on you will hike  
_ _and I know you’ll hike far,”_

Rafael was interrupted by a loud wailing. He stopped talking for a moment and the only sound in the room was the cry of our newborn daughter. We both watched her intently, trying to take in everything about her.

“Mr. Barba, would you like to cut the cord?” the midwife asked, cutting through our silence.

Rafael nodded. She handed him the scissors and cut the umbilical cord where the midwife indicated and said softly,

 _“And face up to your problems  
_ _whatever they are._ ”

I smiled happily at Rafael as the midwife placed our baby on my chest. “No problems with this little darling.”


	10. Happy Birthday

“How does it feel?” Rafael asked.

“What, the stitches they put in my vagina or the tiny human sucking on my boob?” she asked sarcastically.

Rafael was glad she could still muster the energy to be sarcastic, especially being in labor for twelve hours

“I was talking about the breast feeding.”

“It actually hurts a little … but I,” not sure how to describe the joy I felt at being able to hold our child and the bond I felt. “I wish you could share this.”

Rafael sat down on the bed again, putting his arm around his wife and resting his chin on her shoulder. “You are sharing it with me.”

He stroked the back of the baby’s hand and beamed when she wrapped her hand round his finger.

“ _You’ll get mixed up, of course,  
_ _as you already know.  
_ _You’ll get mixed up  
_ _with many strange birds as you go.”_

“You have the book?” she asked.

Rafael picked it up from the side cabinet, reaching around precariously with this free hand and continued to read.

_“So be sure when you step.  
_ _Step with care and great tact  
_ _and remember that Life’s  
_ _a Great Balancing Act.”_

“Ain’t that the truth! We’re going to have to find a balance, the three of us.”

 _She is right_ , Rafael thought.

_“Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.  
_ _And never mix up your right foot with your left._

“Raf, you’re going to have to take that advice to heart too!”

“I think you need to stop interrupting! Our daughter is going to want to hear the next part!”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

_“And will you succeed?  
_ _Yes! You will, indeed!  
_ _(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)  
_ _KID, YOU’LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!_

_So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray  
_ _or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O’Shea,  
_ _you’re off to Great Places!  
_ _Today is your day!  
_ _Your mountain is waiting.  
_ _So…get on your way_!”

“Happy Birthday Princess,” she whispered.

“Princess needs a name.” Rafael prompted.

“Actually…” she said nervously. “I’ve already got a name in mind.”

“Oh? No discussion about this?”

She scrunched up her face, pretending to think about the decision, and then shook her head. “No, I don't think so.”

“Are you going to tell me or make me guess like Rumplestiltskin?” he asked.

She smiled. “Rafael Barba, meet Lina,” she handed the baby to Rafael.

He took her gingerly, as though she might break. “Lina,” he whispered. “I like it.”

“It’s short for Catalina.”

Rafael looked at her, surprised. “After Abuelita?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Hey there Lina, you were named after a very special person. I’m just sorry you’re never going to get to meet her,” Rafael sniffed.

“But she is going to get to meet her own abuelita. I’m pretty sure Mami is out in the waiting room getting very impatient.”

“I’m going to take Lina out to meet her.”

“NO!”

“Why not?”

“Bring Mami in here, she doesn’t leave my sight.”

Rafael laughed, handing the baby back to his wife, he left to call Lucia to meet her granddaughter.


End file.
